


Personal Ties

by DalishGrey



Series: The Redacted Files [7]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Dark Agenda, Feels, Light Angst, Orders, Other, Sorry Not Sorry, nothing personal, so many feels, whythefuckdidIdothis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:20:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5418581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DalishGrey/pseuds/DalishGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An order passed in secret, a debate of life over function, her hands tremble...she works with nervous, bated breath...she'll regret it, one way or another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Ties

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of random dribble, I wanted to make this soooo much more emotive *sulks* I might reupload it (if I make it better)  
> Please let me know what you think!! :)

Input command     
…     
_…   _

_Virtual interface establishing   _

_…   _

_ Systems initializing _

The soft light flickered, twisting and growing as she tightened the straps. Nimble, three-fingered hands making little work of  the  adjacent console. Urgency tainted every movement, driving her chest to a nervous  heave. She cast her eyes away from the featureless face, the  _ head  _ moving and peering, somehow mimicking a curious child.

"Creator? We detect no malfunctions, restraints are unnecessary, this unit means no harm" her heart wrenched at the sound of his ... _ its  _ voice .

The datapad with her orders shone with a pale orange hue in the corner of her sight, the blatant stamp of the Conclave leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.  
She prayed  to anything that would listen, begging for intervention, pleading that they would change their ignorant minds.  Silence followed and she was consumed by it,  blinking back tears as she began to  deactivate each system.  
The restraints flickered and surged as it writhed.

"Please specify if we have failed assigned tasks! We will reprogram!" she continued to tap, entering code after code, the light in its centre slowly dimming.  
She ran a free hand along the smooth metallic curves of its hollowing  armour, knowing she would miss its soft ridges and scars.

The door banged loudly, a clenched fist wrapping against the cold metal surface.  
It simply spurred her on.

"What's going on in there?!" she  recognized the voice, cowering slightly in her partial solitude.

_ 'Bosh'tet...not now!' _

"Open this fucking door!" the woman growled , followed by the hard grunts and scuffing of boots, four of the men gripped and pulled under the stern glare of the redhead.   
  
 Her heavy sobs fogged the visor.

"Creator? We are registering signs of distress, can we assist?" its raspy voice filled the silence. It was familiar, friendly ... and everything she wished it wasn't.

 "No ...you can't" a whisper between tear kissed, parted lips. Blue eyes glowed as she looked down at the construct and drew the talon knife, one by one the bulbs started to fade, its sight slowly vanishing. She couldn't let it see ...  
  


She rose the blade.

"I'm sorry _Legion_..."

"Creator Zorah? We-"

He writhed beneath the hold of his bonds, a large hand reaching out in desperation.

She lowered the blade. Metal plates parted. The faint hiss of electronics breaking the flow of her sobs.

Then the light died...wires strewn in an erratic display, as torn as she was. The red and white insignia on his shoulder, dulled but as true as anything else in that moment.  
She knew _he_ had a soul...and doubted her own.   
    
    
The door burst from its hold, heavy boots thudding against the cold floor. Hands with spread fingers wrapped around quivering arms.

"Tali? Tali!" Shepard's voice resounded in her ears, echoing in the newly found void.

 

_ 'I'm sorry' _

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
